Maybe Mark Winegardner is right that we tend to
ignore writers who are prolific (for some interesting reasons).
Although Sam Shepard doesnt exactly fall into that camp, I
was wondering why I had put off reading the slender volume of stories,
Great Dream of Heaven, that was residing on my bookshelf.
Other than the fact that I didnt have to read it. That is,
there is almost no likelihood that I will be talking to Shepard,
since he is one of the few authors who just writes and refuses to
do any publicity. Of course, that also didnt explain why I
read John Biguenets Oyster. A terrific and visceral
piece of fiction. Anyway, this digression brought me to a happy
realization that I was still able to sever the strictures of obligation
and read beyond what I was committed to reading. All of which means
that I still read for the fun and the joy of it. Back to Sam Shepard.
The Remedy Man, Blinking Eye, The
Door to Women, It Wasnt Proust and Great
Dream of Heaven are everything I read short pieces for. Compact,
spare, accurate and, yes, a good story line. Now, back to days of